Behind Closed Doors
by sexyspork
Summary: Slash Eric/Ryan UST - Preseason Six AUish - Ryan's been fired. That's the truth. But it's also a lie.


Title: Behind Closed Doors

By sexyspork

Fandom: CSIM

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: _Burned_

Warning: Slash, language

Pairing: Eric/Ryan UST

Summary: AUish - Ryan's been fired. That's the truth. But it's also a lie.

I haven't seen Season 6 yet, so it doesn't exist. Though this _is_ a pseudo-AU, so it doesn't really matter anyways. This takes place right after _Burned_.

--

Ryan hated this. Oh God, how he hated this. He wanted to be sick, he really did, but throwing up right in front of the Crime Lab would just be the icing on the cake. Because his skin was crawling and he could already _feel_ the eyes watching his every move, and he couldn't understand the look that Horatio was giving him, couldn't understand that tiny little smile. He wanted Horatio to stop smiling, because Ryan was looking far too much into that one insignificant expression and that was too dangerous to do right now.

Because it could mean H knew. Or that he didn't and was glad "Mr. Wolfe" was no longer in his employ.

Ryan honestly couldn't decide what was worse. As much of a pedestal they all put him on, Horatio Caine did not know every little inner working of his lab. The mole, Natalia "Like the Snake" Boa Vista, was proof of that. But for him to know and not fight on Ryan's behalf would be the greatest betrayal. Ryan did _not_ choose this! And for H to do nothing, well, Ryan might as well not come back when this blew over.

He would not be their puppet. He _refused_ to be their puppet.

And if H _didn't_ know, this was then proof of Ryan's value. If it had been any one else, he would have pushed harder, pushed longer, and would not have let them dig their own grave. If it had been anyone else, Horatio would have gone down fighting before loosing one of his CSI.

Ryan hiccupped and desperately tried to keep a panic attack at bay.

"Wolfe."

Ryan looked up, but didn't bother to stand to greet Rick Stetler from his place on the bench. It wasn't _his_ fault, but Ryan couldn't help but blame him. He was certainly the easy target, though Ryan did understand he was just doing his job. They were _both_ just doing their jobs.

"Stetler." Ryan murmured, hands clenched before him as his forearms rested against his knees. The other man sat down next to him on the bench, leaning forward so as their conversation could be that much softer.

_Shit_, Ryan moaned mentally. _I'm even _thinking_ like one now_.

That didn't help his panic attack at all.

"Calm down." Stetler said quietly, watching him out of the corner of his eye, and Ryan grimaced. This was a far different persona than the one at their encounter at the elevator. He then wondered if he would ever have to learn how to switch on and off like that (_please, God no_).

"What now?" Ryan said, subconsciously repeating his plea from earlier. He couldn't do this, and he couldn't understand how Stetler thought he could. This was a job for one of his agents, not one of Horatio's CSI. Just because he was asked to find the mole did not make him qualified!

"You find a job. I hear television would be a good start. You've got the face for it." Stetler said softly, head turning to look Ryan in the eye, a wordless command far more effective than his verbal suggestion. _That's where they should approach you._

"And after... I can come back?" The details had been hammered out in secret for months now, but never has Ryan been given a sure answer of when or even _if_ he could come back. For the lab, they said, think of the lab. And Ryan was always good at putting duty before his own wants and needs.

"I have your gun and badge ready in my top drawer." And Ryan understood. _I swear to you, Ryan Wolfe, that being a cop is who you are and I have not and _will _not forget that._

Ryan nodded and took a deep breath. The panic wasn't receding, and he doubted it would until he walked through the labs once more as a CSI. Months in a state of barely controlled nerves. _Joy_.

"I guess I better see if Erica can help me get a job." He said with a quirk of his lips. She'd love to have this scoop, and, as much as he'd hate to, he's sure he can cut a deal. If not, Ryan doesn't want to think about what he'd have to do to get his face plastered all over a TV screen.

"I've heard she's a bitch, so I wouldn't trust her." And Ryan almost snickered at Stetler's blasé tone. _Don't trust anyone_.

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, right?" Ryan couldn't stop the hysterical giggle, because he was so very much out of his depth, but he did hope Stetler caught his question. He had to be absolutely shitty at this cloak and dagger crap. _Can I trust my friends? Can I trust my team?_

Because if he couldn't, _fuck_...

"No. More like a suggestion to watch your back around her." No need for secret coding there, James Bond. Which probably meant that Horatio _didn't_ know, _damnitall!_

It felt like he was little again, and the whole world was out to get him.

"Hey, Wolfe!"

Both Ryan and Stetler jerked and looked up as Eric Delko made his way towards them with a duffel bag in hand. The IAB sergeant stood, the mask was firmly back in place, and Ryan couldn't help but idly wonder how lonely he was because of his job.

"Delko." Stetler said in a cold greeting as the Cuban CSI gave the older man a glare. Turning to the young man on the bench, he gave a nod of dismissal. "Wolfe."

Both Ryan and Eric watched him go, and then silence descended for a moment.

"I packed your locker for you." Eric murmured, handing over the bag and Ryan's flinch was almost violent in nature.

"Thanks." He muttered, feeling sick again, because now he was alone and he didn't know what to do.

Eric sat down next to him, and the silence was so uncomfortable Ryan wished something would happen. _Anything,_ just so he could get away. He couldn't take Eric's judgments on top of his own hesitations and doubts. This job had to be done, and he was the one chosen. For Eric to jump to conclusions would not help his frame of mind right now, because he respected Eric, and wanted some respect in turn. However, this fiasco and all its aspects were sure to turn those he trusted against him. Again.

"I'm sorry."

What... the... _hell?_

"What?" Ryan blurted, staring at Eric with an open look of confusion. The other man shifted in his seat and ran his hand over his short hair in irritation. "You have nothing to be sorry for!"

And he didn't. Ryan knew Eric, and he knew Eric would never be involved in _that_. Because Eric was a good CSI and a good man under all that arrogance and bluster. Ryan would sooner believe the sky was orange, than Eric being dirty.

"I should have seen that you were headed for a burn out. I should have known, and I should have helped." Eric said stubbornly, eyebrows furrowed into a frown as he watched Ryan intently.

"My choice, Eric." Ryan said softly. And it was. He could have said no.

"You're my partner, yeah? And my friend. I should have known."

Ryan couldn't help it, but he laughed. It wasn't a particularly nice one, but it felt like a weight off his chest all the same. He had been so worried that Eric would be disgusted with him on so many levels. And even though there was a chance that the older man would hate him when this was all said and done, it wasn't quite so bad here and now.

"Yeah," Ryan murmured, watching as Eric blinked in confusion. "You're my partner. And my friend."

Eric watched him for another moment before shrugging and giving Ryan a lop-sided grin as they both stood up. "I could use something to eat, how about you?"

"I could use a beer." And Lord only knew how badly he wanted to get drunk.

Eric turned to look at him, face serious as he took a step closer to the younger man. "Wolfe, I'm not going to let you replace one vice for another."

Ryan snorted, even though his lips were twitching into a grin and warmth began to settle in his chest. "Shove it, Delko. One drink's not going to kill me, and I trust you to pull an Alexx to tell me when to stop."

And no matter what Stetler said, Ryan did trust him.

Eric threw back his head and laughed, and then slung an arm over Ryan's shoulders. Ryan shivered and told himself it was from the wind.

"I'll do one better and let Alexx mother you herself."

"Oh God, how am I going to explain this to Alexx?" Ryan groaned, and Eric laughed again.

"I hope you're prepared for a lecture..." Eric teased, his arm a comfortable weight to bear.

And if a lecture was the worst he was going to get out of this, Ryan would welcome it with open arms.

--

Again, I repeat myself: the boys are dunderheads. And this was actually kinda hard to write with all the multiple layers of dialogue. There was at least four by my count. kicks fic

I just wanted a fic to explain why Ryan was gambling, because that didn't strike me as his character. So… more undercover!Ryan.


End file.
